


Nunc Dimittis

by pokey_jr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, F/M, Multi, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokey_jr/pseuds/pokey_jr
Summary: Professor Sanchez phones a friend.





	Nunc Dimittis

**Author's Note:**

> woops this is straight up my all time fantasy. Featuring Professor Rick Sanchez and Professor Severus Snape double teaming a student.  
> title of this story thanks to tumblr friend [@rosyfinger](https://rosyfinger.tumblr.com)

You wait until you get back to your seat to glance at the paper in your hand. This is it. Big moment. Your heart pounds, and you flip it over. You have to get a C or higher to have a chance at passing this class, come on, come on.

69\. Uncompromising in red pen. Your stomach drops, it feels like the lecture hall contracts around you.

_How?_ Your mind reels through reasons and scenarios and justifications, but mostly you’re just frustrated. Science and math don’t come naturally for you, you have to work hard for passing grades, and it’s so much easier to fantasize about your seventy year old professor railing you over a desk. 

"Sir? Professor Sanchez?" You chase him down after class, half running to keep up with his long strides. He clearly doesn't want to give you the time of day, but that's typical. Arrogant and brilliant. And tenured, of course. Even as you lay out your argument for changing your grade, you know it's a battle you won't win.

"Office hours start at 4." He barely turns to look at you.

It's 3:55, and you tail him to his office. Once there, you restate your case, nervous, but this is your only recourse. "Professor, I'd like to know if there will be a curve for this test you just handed back."

He slings his messenger bag off his shoulder and lets it drop on the floor. “Wh-- holy shit, you’re still here?”

You stop short of entering his office, instead hovering in the doorway. His brusque manner only makes you want to try harder, though the prospect of revealing to him the real reason you’re still suffering through his class is mortifying.

“I studied,” you persist. “I came to lab, and office hours, I’ve done all the homework.”

“O-oh, right, I see, so that makes you entitled to another sho-eeugh-t. Entitles you to-to-to pester me, waste my time.”

“Well, no, but…” You flip through the pages, every one of which is marred with painful slashes of red. He'd gone out of his way to grade this one himself, and leave nasty comments. _Wrong. Wronger. Seriously? Find something you’re good at because it’s not this._ The last page just has one big X on it. Nothing helpful, no real corrections.

"Professor, this isn't--"

"What?" He snaps. "I-it's not what. _Fair?_ "

"No!" The word bursts out, sounding much more childish than you intended.

He takes a flask from within his jacket, guzzles liquor, and belches. All on his own time. He regards you there in front of him, refusing to match your energy until he so chooses, imperious in the court he holds.

“Have you ever considered that the problem isn't anyone but yourself? _Jesus_ , just accept it. you're fucking stupid, y-y-y-you're an i--eeugh-diot and you have no place in this course. You- you think you deserve another chance, think you're special because I—I-I-I don’t know, your parents told you?”

You shift where you stand, squeezing your thighs together at the shameful pulse of arousal that his insults bring.

“No, shut up, don’t answer that, y-y-you’re frustrating me. Come—get in here, close the door behind you.”

You open your mouth, think better of it, and do as he says.

With the door closed, and the two of you alone in the office, the space feels even smaller. Perhaps he’ll finally give you another chance, though your imagination takes it further, to a lurid vision of kneeling under his desk… You aren’t alone for long. Your professor takes a device you recognize from assigned reading as the portal gun he invented, points it at the wall, and a portal opens.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting someo-eeurgh-ne who can—he’s gonna help fix this, maybe improve your grade or something. Now zip it.”

Through the swirling green vortex steps a man nearly as tall as Rick, but with long black hair and dark eyes. His face is long and gaunt, his nose aquiline. He is attired in black, all formal, victorian and dour; you can easily imagine him swooping around a manor and terrifying the servants. But the most striking part is when he speaks.

"Sanchez."

You touch the back of a chair to steady yourself. His voice. Good lord, _his voice._ You'd thought you could listen to Professor Sanchez all day, and it's been that coarse, loud voice that’s so easy to conjure in fantasy, groaning in your ear. This man, though. A drawling British accent in a smooth bass. He hardly opens his mouth when he speaks, as if keeping most of himself in reserve, though what he does let out pours over you like liquid silk. Your mind flashes to a picture of you, sandwiched between the two men, their gruff moaning voices washing over you as they ravage you.

"Heyyyyy! Sev-- m-m-my old buddy! Snape! How's it hangin, bro?"

Snape raises an eyebrow at him, mouth thin, then allows a wan smile. "I’m between lessons, Rick. And I am possessed of the ability to transport myself in an instant. That infernal contraption is unnecessary.”

You don’t know what to read from the familiarity between them, other than that Professor Sanchez becomes ‘Rick’ in your head. Like flipping a switch.

Rick waves off the other man’s complaint, and indicates you.

"This is the pupil in question?"

"Su--eeurgh--re is. Can you do-- can you work your magic?"

Snape raises an eyebrow at him. "Certainly." Then he turns to you. "Look at me, girl."

Before you can say ‘what’, he grips your jaw in his long-fingered hand—similar to your teacher’s, you note, with another flare of desire— fixes his dark eyes directly with yours, and invades your mind.

He sees everything. Before you can process what’s happening, he flips through your thoughts like paying through a book, and lands right on—

“Care to explain your poor performance?” His voice regrounds you in reality.

"I can't... I... it's hard to focus in class."

"Why?"

Your eyes dart to Rick, your mouth goes dry. Anything would be easier than telling them the truth.

“Quickly, now,” Snape warns. “Tell him what I just saw, or I shall do so for you, and you will find the consequences of wasting my time unpleasant.”

You hesitate again, a second too long. Snape grabs your upper arm and manhandles you so you’re lying stomach down across Rick’s desk. A protest forms on your lips, but Snape cuts it short, slamming you down harder than necessary, and the air rushes from your lungs.

“I think not.” He captures your wrists in one hand, folds your arms against the small of your back. “And you will address me as sir or professor. I will not abide disrespect.”

Rick snorts at that and steps closer. His crotch is right in your face, you can see the weft of his tweed trousers clearly. “Wh-what’re you saying there, Snape? Better not be a dig at me.” He undoes his belt, the button, his fly.

Without thinking, you buck your hips back, the reality of your situation suddenly registering.

Friction. You need friction. You need to be filled and fucked. Snape makes a low sound, hand at your hip, and grinds against you. The hard line of his erection unmistakable even through layers of clothing.

This might nearly make up for everything, for the test and the grade and the whole damn class.

“Hmmm.” Snape’s voice resonates from behind you, he flips the hem of your skirt up over your hips, yanks your panties down around your thighs. “I’m saying your slut needs a firm hand.” He grips your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh; at the same time Rick tangles his fingers in your hair and forces your face up.

He slaps you once, lightly. You yelp at the sting, indignant, so he does it again. A little harder. You feel it in your teeth.

Snape draws his fingers along your wet slit. “When I or my colleague speak to you, girl, you will answer.” A helpless whimper escapes your lips; embarrassment and lust flare within you in equal measure. Admitting the attraction at last is somehow freeing.

“No matter if your mouth is full, or you are incapacitated.” Snape briefly brings his face to your pussy, laps at your clit, then drags his tongue up.

“Wait, no, please, I want—!” You whine when he draws away, and he smacks your ass. His accent had fooled you into thinking he was genteel at first.

“Impertinence. Do not test me again.” You feel a drizzle of lube on your ass, then his fingers spreading it around, dipping into your cunt before he moves on to your asshole. He presses a single digit into the tight opening.

Rick demands your attention back. “Y—you wanna suck my dick, I know you do. That’s what he saw.”

“Yes— yes sir.” Your voice goes up an octave as Snape adds another finger, scissoring them to prepare you.

“Then open. Open that—that pretty mouth—“ he pulls out his erect cock, makes sure his balls are hanging out too, and presents it at your lips “show me how much of a fucking goody two shoes you are, tongue out, goooood—“

You swirl your tongue around the plush head, and take him in your mouth as he gives it to you. There’s too much of it, he’s long and thick, _god he’s huge_ , and if Snape is anything similar—

Any complaint is muffled, your eyes are already watering. Snape replaces his fingers with the blunt head of his cock and starts to push in. It stings, you try to squirm, but with your arms behind your back, you can’t even hold yourself up, save for your professor’s vice grip in your hair. Snape’s hand finds your throat, steadying you when he breaches that tight ring of muscle.

“Eyes up, girl,” he commands. “Arch your back, focus! Focus on the cock you’re sucking, do it right. Your teacher wants your mouth, show him how grateful you are for the patience he’s afforded you.”

You lift your gaze, meeting Rick’s eyes as he thrusts languidly into your mouth. With his free hand he swigs from his flask. Bites his lower lip, his eyes gleam with base amusement.

Snape starts to fuck your ass open with sure, measured strokes, a little deeper each time. His erection feels huge, splitting you, and there’s no reprieve.

The two of them own you, push and pull, using you, uncompromising in their control as they wind your arousal tighter. Untouched, your clit throbs. Your pussy clenches, empty, and you ache for more, straining futilely against Snape’s hold on your wrists.

Snape grumbles with disapproval, and his tone stays low and even. “You want me to spank you. Don’t you. You’d rather enjoy it, you’re one of those needy sluts who would beg me to bend her over my knee, order her to count aloud. Tell her she’s a naughty girl and then brush her hair afterward, some nonsense like that.”

Sneering and derisive. But he’s right, and that only makes you want more.

You moan ‘yes’ around the length in your mouth, which he somehow understands.

He snorts. “Pathetic. Utterly predictable. Though perhaps you aren’t worthless after all. I think we’ve found your calling. You’ve got a tight little arsehole, you take cock reasonably well, I’d say.”

Rick agrees with him, “Ohhh fuck, yes, I-I-I hope you’re learning something, nasty fuckin whore.”

“mmmph!”

“Learning what you’re good for, huh?” He pulls out of your mouth briefly and tips your chin up. “T-tell me. Say it.”

“I’m…” You break off, since at that moment Snape decides to thrust particularly hard and deep in your ass, and go still. 

“You’re a whore. _Say it._ ”

“I- I…” He’s so big, it’s too much, too much and you want more.

“She can’t say it. Can’t do anything right, can you?”

“But I’m trying!”

“Well then you’re just a dumb fucking idiot who’s wasting my time and taking up a spot in the class.”

“Maybe you’re—“ You begin, but then Snape moves, pushing in harder, further, his entire thick length fills you, his balls press against your empty cunt. As if warning you. _Careful._

Now you have to say it. “A bad teacher.”

Rick grins and wrenches your head back. “Maybe you’re meant to be a-a-a fucking cocksleeve. W-what do you think about that? You-eeurgh— you like it enough, like getting fucked like a bitch, huh? Can’t keep your damn mouth shut, can’t keep your legs closed. Stupid slut begging for a mouthful of cum and a fat dick in her ass.”

You gasp, eyes flutter closed as Snape rolls his hips, sparking white hot pleasure that makes your legs tremble. Rick claims your mouth again, his girth flattening your tongue, forcing your jaw open wide. You can’t help drooling, and his balls swing heavily, hitting your chin over and over.

They work in tandem, deliberate and rough. Their voices combine, rough and smooth, both low, praising your debasement, Rick teasing and Snape serious.

Behind you, his hips snap urgently against yours, he feels you start to clench around his erection and kicks your legs wider, releases your wrists in order to lean forward and brace himself on the desk. Hands free, you lift your hips and snake one beneath you, fingers slipping on the slick flesh. Finally free and your instinct is to rise and meet Snape’s driving strokes.

“Good girl--” His fingers tighten around your neck restricting your conscious thought to a binary: the need to breathe, and the need to cum. The sounds they make pounding into you are wet and obscene, gleeful as they ruin you.

Rick fucks down your throat brutally, uncaring as tears run down your face. “Th-thaaaat’s it, choke on my cock— I’m-- ooh fuck I’m gonna cum, and you’re gonna drink it all, thirsty _slut._ ” His rhythm goes erratic, until you taste salt and bitter and musk overflowing, more than you can swallow at once, and you gag, but he’s relentless. It drips down your chin, but you’re so close and as soon as he withdraws you give a desperate incoherent cry--

and then you’re gone.

Bright, hot pleasure floods your system. Your entire body hums with it, wave over wave, and you feel Snape, at last, abandon his stiff composure and groan, pumping his release into you. He is wild and raw, and you sob, overstretched and oversensitized as he rides you. Past your limit. He keeps going, his strokes becoming slower, slicker, and he finally pulls out.

You feel his cum leaking from your ass and dripping down your legs. Rick releases your hair and you rest your head on the desk, not trusting yourself to move. Eventually you come down, and back to yourself. Your breathing evens out.

They don’t allow you to rest for long; Snape comes around to stand next to Rick, and lifts you by the collar of your shirt.

“Look at that. You see that? See what you did there?”

You’d drooled cum on the desk. “Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“I don’t care for half hearted, insincere apologies. Just make it right. Clean it up, girl.” You obey, licking it while Rick mocks you, and when you are released, you straighten up, and start to smooth your clothes.

“So… can I— does this mean you’ll change my grade?”

“Noooooope. Try harder on the next test. Retake the class, o-or better yet, reconsider your field of study.”

You nod, crestfallen. You’d rather not have to leave, but you start to turn and reach for your bag.

Snape catches your wrist in his hand, a crushing grip that’s harder than before, and it grinds your bones together. “Where do you think you’re going? You haven’t been dismissed, you little slut. We aren’t done with you yet.”


End file.
